


a waking nightmare

by nomothete



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Demons, Dragon Age Kink Meme, Dubious Consent, Fade Demons, M/M, Other, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 15:42:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3734338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomothete/pseuds/nomothete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dragon age kink meme fill asking for m!hawke and nightmare striking a deal to get hawke out of the fade, "i scratch your back, you scratch mine" style. more dub-con than non-con since hawke is presented with a choice, but considering the situation i'll play it safe and bump it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a waking nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> kink meme fill request as follows:
> 
> "Hawke fucks the nightmare demon, in exchange for safe passage out of the fade. 
> 
> Weird, strange, bizarre sex. Crack or crack treated seriously both happily accepted.
> 
> +The nightmare demon keeps it's monstrous shape  
> +"I hate spiders"  
> ++ The nightmare demon develops some sort of tender feelings about Hawke- not necessarily love of any kind, but Hawke's nightmares are especially tasty or "I'm the only demon that gets to mess with Hawke", etc. 
> 
> No preference for Hawke's gender/class."
> 
> liberties taken: a lot since it doesn't really touch crack status except for the situation itself. at least i got a bunch of bonus points, right? also, i'd like to add that this is a fantastic first thing to post on this account. tentacle dub-con with not a nightmare, but the nightmare.

“Infuriating mortal, you will stay yourself,” boomed the heavy voice above. A massive, chitinous leg stabbed downwards with deadly intent, the green fog of the fade billowing out and away. The smoke curled around the two titanic forces that clashed amidst the demon's domain and caught sickly in its opponent's lungs. Nightmare loomed high above, pulling itself away from the strikes as the man trapped beneath its' many-eyed gaze lashed out. “Your fight means nothing in the end, Hawke. Just like all else you have done.”

Hawke snarled up at the beast, both as wounded and winded as Nightmare. He could see the sense in the monster's words, and while the sharp memory of its' earlier comments about Kirkwall lingered, he refused to let it get to him. He was used to demons, to their sweet words and sweeter offers. This demon offered nothing like it, cruel and direct. It did not pull its' punches so to speak and it didn't seem all too keen on lying either. He wasn't sure which was worse.

Fire curled across the metal of his gauntlet as he readied another volley of spells. Hawke sidestepped a lashing tentacle that lolled from Nightmare's head as it swooped down. A fireball crashed into one of the pustule-like eyes, earning him an indignant screech.

“Enough! Enough of this fool's errand. You, Hawke, are infuriating beyond any measure. A pleasant surprise from the usual quivering coward, but infuriating nonetheless. Why do you refuse to bow? To break? Surely it would be so much... easier.” It sighed lowly, hunkering closer and pulling down wisps of putrid smog with it. Wickedly curved mandibles clicked together, careful of the cracks in their smooth surface. Hawke eyed them, ready to dodge, and smirked with what little pride he had left. He had been wiped across the floor of the Fade, but Andraste's tits if he didn't give as good as he got. The dark presence creeping in the back of his skull flared at the thought. Nightmare shook itself, blood pouring from the copious wounds, and hummed darkly to itself. Displeasure was clear in the beast, obviously not quite bested, but contended against enough to aggravate it.

“Come on now, I'm not Isabella. Easy isn't really my game.” Hawke chuckled to himself as he fought to regain his breath. The Fade came when he reached out, mana following through his veins and lending him the strength to straighten and look Nightmare in the eye. “Eyes,” he chuckled quietly to himself in correction, half delirious with exhaustion.

The massive head of the fear demon twisted slightly, but it made no comment, choosing instead to lumber closer. Hawke twirled his staff about, the bindings rasping against the back of his hand for but a second before it settled comfortably in the curling fist. Magic flared and he began to wonder if he'd be pressed into using blood magic. It wasn't too grand a secret that he had dabbled before, but the game had changed now that he was physically trapped in the Fade. He wasn't too worried, since the lesser demons had gone running long ago. A few lesser fear demons had manifested in the presence of Nightmare, but the demon's bulk made it a swift death for the smaller kin that tried their luck fighting beneath it. He did find its' accuracy in stepping on them a bit keener than the accuracy for stepping on him. Another low rumble cut off his wandering train of thought, eyes locking back on the large cluster nested beneath Nightmare's crested brow.

“It seems we are at an impasse, mortal. I wonder... do you truly believe you will survive this? You may fight until you wither away, but I will continue. You are delaying the inevit-”

“Give me a bit more credit than that!” Hawke snapped, the butt of his staff cracking sharply against the parched ground of the Fade. He was obviously delirious if he was actually arguing with a demon, but being patronized was not one of his favorite hobbies. Though it did list slightly above sucking on red lyrium and making out with Knight-Commander Meredith's statue. Those were roughly the same thing, but Hawke didn't care to ponder on it too long. “You already made it clear you know everything, so why, out of everything you could do, do you underestimate me? You know what happens to people who underestimate me, right?”

“I am not people.” The deep chuckle that resonated in his head was deafening, though possessed no obvious malice.

“Yeah, you're a spider. I fucking hate spiders. Why in the name of the Maker do we not have normal sized spiders?” A curious thought since he couldn't actually recall seeing any building the impressive webs that littered Fenris' mansion.

“Enough. Perhaps we can come to an... arrangement?” Nightmare crooned in his mind, rolling the words with a contemplative air. It seemed content to ignore his insult of its' chosen form of manifesting.

“I am not making deals with demons. I appreciate the straightforwardness though. Refreshing, really.” He quipped back, sarcasm and snark a familiar armor to wrap around himself.

“No deals. Not the kind you imagine. When my master is victorious, and he shall be so, I will have my choice among vessels. Nothing with drive Envy so much to its' namesake as wearing the Inquisitor. I would have that one when I am allowed my pick of hosts. You?” Hawke cringed at the thing's laughter. It resonated in his mind and the screeching outside of it did little to help the resulting throb.

“I'd like to think I am the cream of the crop, actually. I mean, have you seen me?” He spat back, one palm flat to his ear with a vicious rub. He was going to go deaf at this rate.

“That I have, mortal. That I have.” Hawke's eyes snapped back up to the looming arachnid. That tone had been different, very different. It reeked of something familiar, dreams long since forgotten and enemies long since slain. Desire. Wrong demon, but a similar purr that vibrated in the air around them, enough so to make any of their ilk proud.

“Are you coming onto me?”

He really did have a problem, the mage sighed as Nightmare once again filled the Fade with laughter. The thing was oddly jolly for a demon. And he was oddly stupid for, well no. No, his shining decisions in life were exactly what was expected of him. He liked to think he had more self preservation skills than sassing demons, especially flirting ones though. He certainly never imagined that particular sentence would ever be said. Was this a dream? He tried to recall how long they had fought, how long since last he saw the Inquisitor and their allies. It blurred and slipped away from him. He knew time in the Fade meant little, but surely he hadn't been here long enough to inflict Stockholm syndrome on a demon. He was a little proud of that accomplishment though. He'd have to tell Var-

“As I said, enough. Hold your tongue mage and listen closely.” The crippling realization of his own mortality and fate was held at bay by the thrumming voice's return. “Pay your debt to me and I will let you leave to tell your tales.”

Hawke's breath cut off, a sharp gust of air escaping as he stared dumbfounded at Nightmare. “What-”

“My voice is absolute here. You heard as I said. You will repay the damages done and I will send you to a rift that yet remains. I possess the power to tear the weaker places of this realm apart sufficient enough to allow you through unharmed. Soul intact, mana pathways not burned out of your body, mind still sharp... as it stands.”

The suggestion of a joke in the thing's voice would have had him scoffing in offense, but said mind was too far gone already trying to rationalize agreeing. A deal with a demon to be thrown out of the Fade and back into Thedas? How would that even wor- “Wait, repay what damages?”

A furious cacophony of noise brought him to his knees and the face rushed to hover but a few inches from his own. “My fearsome visage, my vast gaze, marred by your insolence and determination in equal measure.” Nightmare sunk back, the humming again kicking up in the absence of spoken word. “That is what you will pay for. The inconvenience you have caused will have me devouring and corrupting dreams for an insulting amount of time in order to right myself alone. A setback in a time when we can afford little or did you forget the war we wage even now, Hawke?”

He rose as the demon spoke, taking a step back as it cooed his name down at him. The ringing and buzzing of its' ambient noise seemed to rise and fall as Nightmare swayed slightly before him. He could almost see the eyes focused on him, roving and seeking out whatever weaknesses or insights they the demon might desire to learn.

“And there again is the thought. Desire. You have quite the roaming thoughts, mage. I wonder how you so frequently return to the same one.”

“Enough of the riddling, you're giving me a headache... oh wait, that's probably all the mind-reading.” He ground out, slightly peeved at his own defensiveness. “Speak, or whatever this is, plainly. How am I supposed to repay these debts of yours?”

“Well, that depends on y-”

“Hypothetically.”

Nightmare paused, drawing back slightly as if trying to puzzle him out further. Or it was insulted at being cut off. Could demons even have their feelings hurt?

“Hypothetically speaking. If I made a deal with you, if, of course.”

“When you decide to accept my deal, and thus avoid the inevitable fate of me killing, devouring, or possessing you, I will only ask of you rather little.” The demon clacked its' mandibles together sharply, voice taking a dark resonance. “Beg.”

“Oh, for Andraste's sake! Beg for what?”

The thin tendrils he'd targeted and torn off earlier during his distraction had been replaced. Longer, larger versions of the same curled from the demon's gaping maw and around his limbs. In a moment his wrists and ankles were captured. The clattering of his staff on the ground below as he was lifted was as sure as a death sentence. The heavy sections of Nightmare's face shifted against one another, foul ichor drooling from wounds and shadows. The smooth, ivory teeth that crowned the opening of its' mouth grew closer and closer. Hawke struggled, tugging sharply at gripping tentacles, as an instinctive panic took hold. Shame that flight was out of the question.

A glob of some foul slime from the demon's jaws landed on his leg, sliding slow and hot down his lower leg to the organic restraint below. The humming from before grew as he was lifted up past the teeth and dark gullet below. Smooth eyes peered unblinking as Hawke fought in vain against Nightmare's touch. The moment his gaze met the monster's everything seemed to still at once.

“Beg me to fuck you.”

He choked in response, eyes wide as the reality of the “deal” set it. He was to barter his freedom, his life, with his body? What use had a demon of fear with sex anyway? How did the thing even intend to-

“Touching, mortal. Worry not for my pleasure. Your fear at this is more than enough for that. No, what I want is you to beg. To bow. To break. If you will not under the power of Fear, then you will until the power of your own body. Mortals are so easy to play against themselves. When Desire sights new prey, your kind have already won it half the battle. I like a bit more of a challenge.”

A wet feeling startled him from Nightmare's eyes, gaze switching to his leg in alarm. The fleshy tendril had vanished up his pant leg, curling slick up his leg with ease as it was already doused in the thing's drool. The seams of his boots had been split, the leather falling off to lay useless with his staff below them.

“Now I might dedicate that sharp and clever tongue of yours to a higher purpose.” A pleased din echoed in his mind. Panic clutched around his chest, ribs tight under some imagined pressure. One of the beast's fleshy appendages slipped into his view, growing closer to his face. Hawke jerked back, trying to pull away knowing full and well what Nightmare intended. It was no use, unable to escape the organic bonds that held him. It dug its' tip against his lips, desperately seeking between his teeth.

With a snarl he let it, mouth opening only to clamp back down and sever the questing limb. He spat out the chuck of meat as Nightmare screeched in his ears and in his mind, the admonishments coming quick and deafening with such fury there were no words. The blur of images and meaning flooded his mind. Punishment. He would be punished for taking advantage of such a “generous” deal. The demon hissed before him, eyes locking his gaze as more of the tentacles rose towards him. The bloody stump shook, muscles tensing and releasing beneath the diseased-looking skin. The tip grew again in a moment's time, until it hung above him the same as before.

The thin limb curled over his throat, curling in on itself while pressing tight to his skin. It burrowed closer, more of the grasping feelers spreading across him, before pulling off of him sharply. The suction the twisted flesh had caused left a stinging welt behind. Others followed it, licking away at his skin only to curl in and rip away like twisted kisses. Meanwhile the thicker ones set to work tearing away armor and cloth, the ones hovering over already bared flesh lashing sharply at him. They left raised pathways across his body, long red lines that had his nerves singing with every twitch he gave to escape them.

Hawke winced and writhed, trying to twist away from Nightmare's punishment to no avail. Finally the wet slaps ceased. The textured flesh soothed over the red marks left behind and the demon shifted its' hold once more to lower him beneath the crested face. Drool hung off the edges of teeth and tentacles, some of the more lively ones actively catching clumps of it to rub across the burning lashes. He wanted to be sick, to feel his stomach turn in revolt of the monstrous form and everything it signified, but it didn't. The putrid fog from before now reeked less of rot and decay and more of fear and adrenaline. He didn't dare detect lust in anything but Nightmare. Hawke was many things, but this? This was going too far. He couldn't enjoy this. What kind of monster did it take to enjoy being raped by a demon? Sure he could have chosen otherwise, but this was his life on the line. He didn't have a choice at all and each second made him more and more sure that he wouldn't have picked another deal given the chance anyway.

“I told you my price. Beg. Your flesh grows hot and hard. Why fight it? Beg for release. Release of the flesh, release from this realm. Beg, Hawke.”

He refused to look down, knowing he'd see his own erection and unwilling to face the arousal the demon's ministrations had brought on.

Nightmare continued anyway, letting itself wrap tighter around Hawke's body. He wasn't pliant and he wasn't begging, but the resigned need growing in his mind would be clear as day to the demon. It intended to stoke the embers into an inferno.

The demon began to pull at the Fade, the feeling and magic and mana cool on his overheated skin. The tentacles burned hot where the cold press of the Fade's heavier presence didn't. Sensitive flesh was teased between the two extremes. Nightmare's tendrils lapped over and his thighs and chest, snapping at or rolling his nipples. For what felt like years they avoided the straining cock between his legs, his member twitching in interest as they played with his body.

Finally one of the tentacles swept low, slicking smoothly over his sack and below. While it refused to touch his member, the muscled flesh tensed, tightening around his balls and rolling them between the coils as the tip set to work. His legs were pulled up and apart, spread by Nightmare's tongues and bared to the hundreds of eyes that were no doubt taking in every detail of their victory. The tip of the tendril, dripping with the strange slime circled idly, barely pressing in before pulling away. Again and again it teased at his opening, muscles clenching wildly fighting to get away or fighting to get more. He didn't care anymore, dizzy from the heat, body begging only to slide one way or another from this teetering precipice.

The tendril, or its' master, grew tired of playing with their toy. A blazing heat was suddenly fighting its way deeper, Hawke left arching at the sudden intrusion. A scream tore from his throat as the tentacle burrowed farther and farther into his abdomen, though he felt no pain. Everything seemed to be happening to him from miles away, pain a fuzzy concept he couldn't wrap his head around. The Fade warped and twisted, only Nightmare and the blinding pleasure searing through his body remained steady.

His breath caught again and again, desperate gasps interrupted by moans that left an ache in his chest and burn in his throat. The soft squelching noises that drifted up drew his attention down. Hawke groaned at the view Nightmare gave him. His body, bent at the demon's pleasure, was curled to give them both a perfect view. The tentacle hadn't looked as thick as it felt, and seeing it had grown wasn't the relief he had thought it would be. Nightmare was whatever it wanted to be and it could easily stretch him over this demented version of its' cock and grow it till he ripped at the seams.

It seemed content to let the tentacle thrash as it was, pulling out writhing before carving its' way back in. Thick droplets of slime were forced from his entrance as the member fucked him, warmer than his skin from the heat of his own insides. Another joined it, stretching the ring of muscle and splitting into two once inside. He could feel it prod and stretch the walls, searching for exactly what he feared and exactly what he wanted. His vision went white as one of the two pressed down on his prostate, nerves shorting out in the onslaught of pleasure.

A lone tentacle slid away from his chest and down, curling snug around the base of his cock. The mage bowed his back, trying to fight the grip that stood between himself and orgasm, only managing to fuck the tight ring of wet flesh it formed and sinking himself further in pleasure.

He whined low in his throat, gasping around a tentacle that took an interest in his warm mouth while its' fellows sought out every inch below. The meaty flesh left him gagging, though he was kept distracted by the abuse of the bundle of nerves.

“Hawke. You're forgetting again.” The tongue-like appendages tore themselves from his body, his insides feeling hollowed at the absence. “Beg.”

His cock throbbed and he didn't have the shame left to balk at the tears rolling down his cheeks. Each second empty seemed to stretch into an eternity and he was too far gone to care about anything but the powerful orgasm Nightmare could give him. “Please, fu- please fuck me! I can't take it, please just-”

“Beg prettier, Hawke.”

He screamed in frustration as one of the swaying limbs let a burning dollop of Nightmare's drool land on his thigh. The slow crawl down and across his anus left him shaking, and the slick across his cock and balls was torture. “Please, I don' know what you fucking want, but I- I'll do anything! Please let me come! Please just fuck m-”

Whatever he said, however he said it must have been enough. Nightmare was quick to bury three of the tentacles in his ass immediately. His resulting scream was again cut off by a thick member forcing its way between his teeth and down his throat. The burn in his muscles was nothing compared to the heat in his core. The building, suffocating heat of orgasm was coupled by the intense heat of Nightmare's tendrils that writhed and bunched around each other deep inside. Hawke fucked his hips down on them, the bulging of his stomach not enough to stop the hunger for more.

He gasped for as much, barely discernible pleas asking the demon to sate the fire growing in him. The monstrous body and equally monstrous chuckle surrounded him. He lost himself in the frenzied thrusts and inhuman touch. More of the pustule-covered tongues dropped from Nightmare's maw and reached out for him. Some tugged and smoothed over his nipples, others tightening around his throat or teasing at the well-fucked hole at either end. The smaller ones slipped past the already nestled limbs, pushing their way in to lick at the roof and corners of his mouth or focus on his prostate as the large ones only grazed pressure along it in passing.

Time blurred together, vision and understanding blacking out in favor of the waves of pleasure that numbed him to his situation. Nightmare crooned low praises in the back of his mind, words and sounds that would haunt dreams, not nightmares, for years to come.

Finally everything grew too hot for him to withstand, the pressure reaching a peak he'd never know the intensity of before. He barely noticed the release of the tentacle wrapped around his base, the constraint removed and the relief of it drowned out in the white noise that was consuming him. A last wicked drag against his prostate had his hips jerking roughly up of their own volition. The tentacles, still buried so deep it might as well have been twined with the ones in his throat, pumped in and out of him at the same tempo. The stuttering of his hips stopped long before the writhing of the pseudo-cocks within him. Nightmare let him go all at once.

Hawke hadn't realized how low he had been held towards the end, a mere few inches drop to the floor of the Fade. He coughed roughly as the demon removed itself from his throat, disgusting and wet noises marking their twisting trip out of his esophagus, pulling him into a sitting position as it did so. He watched with dawning shame and simmering disgust at the ones below left. They did so slowly, easing out of the grip of the others, pulling and spreading the ring of muscles a final time. The largest of the tentacles pressed up, bulging out his cum-stained abdomen before it slicked out with a puddle of the demon's drool. The spider-shaped demon seemed to be savoring the last sights of his gaping hole before Hawke shifted to move to his knees and hide himself.

Everything ached and burned, his body trembling in exhaustion. Between the fight with Nightmare and being fucked to the Black City and back, he was nearly dead on his feet. He wiped sweat from his eyes with the back of his forearm, slowly raising his gaze to meet the guillotine's above.

“Anything I want.” The great demon appeared to grin down at him from the angle. It twisted its' head and pleased sound chimed from between the flexing mandibles.

“Wha-”

“You said you would do anything I want.” Hawke went cold, shaking for a far different reason now. “I could possess you, is that your fear? No. No, you are afraid I'll keep you as a pet. A leashed mage for me to do with as I please.”

The resonating chuckle filled the spaces that formed, the Fade reasserting itself now that Nightmare's attention was freed up enough to bother with shaping the world around them both. “Fear not.” The irony was lost on neither of them. “You paid my price, mage. I'll let you back to your bright and vivid world. I will even send you back with a boon.”

He snarled up at the being, prepared to lash out, but was cut off as a great leg lifted. The pointed, chitinous limb slammed down beside him and the memory of Nightmare's command of “enough” sang in his mind. Hawke stayed quiet.

“Never again in your sleep will you worry about demons, Hawke. Never again will you be kept up by nightmares. No, you are too challenging a catch to keep. You are my prey and none other's. The only nightmare you will ever dream of now will be me.”

“At least, until we stand victorious and I win my way into your world.” The ache settled into his joints and the chill that had danced on his skin sunk instead to bone. The shake stilled, pinned like a captive animal in Nightmare's looming presence rather than being steeled by any notion of bravery or courage. “I must say Hawke. I look forward to fucking you raw in the body of that Inquisitor.”


End file.
